Destiny's Charm
by th-cult
Summary: Time was not to be toyed with, she understood. But when all hope seems lost, Hermione's destiny changes as she was unwittingly tossed back to the Marauders' era with her memories intact. With the fabric of time re-stitched with the inclusion of a Hermione Meadowes, will history be rewritten this time round? AU. (RB/HG)
1. Prologue

Title: Destiny's Charm

Abstract: Time was not to be toyed with, she understood. But when all hope seems lost, Hermione's destiny changes as she was unwittingly tossed back to the Marauders' era with her memories intact. With the fabric of time re-stitched with the inclusion of a Hermione Meadowes, will history be rewritten this time round? AU. (RB/HG)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe, much to my eternal regret. 

_Prologue_

 _Forest of Dean, October 1997_

It was time. Thirteen months of preparation had come to this, and she was drained. She was tired, so tired. Tired of fleeing from campsite to campsite with snatchers sniffing on their trail like dogs after a bone. Tired of feeling the bone deep fear that etched itself on her heart and never let up. Any moment of silence and serenity in the lush green of the Forest of Dean was inevitably threaded through with a lining of fear. But most of all, she was tired of seeing the light dim in the eyes of her boys with every passing day. They were duelling fiercely in the ring of chestnuts now, magic sizzling and sparking in the air vibrantly as they flicked spell after spell at each other wordlessly. Necessity, and the abundance of time, had allowed them to experiment and master the art of nonverbal spells. Of the trio, only she and Harry had tentatively and then successfully managed to wield wandless magic.

Hermione watched pensively. _Yes, it was time._

 _The Shrieking Shack, December 1997_

"We need a pensieve". Harry's face was ashen, the green in his eyes darkened to nearly black as he finally tore his gaze away from the tube he had been handed. The three teenagers, huddled under the invisibility cloak, had arrived just in time to witness Nagini puncture the smooth skin of the man's neck with pin points sharpened to deliver the most potent of poisons.

He was dying, Hermione realised belatedly, a hundred thoughts whirling around in her head even as she stared at the still form of the potions professor who had been the bane of their school lives. Snape was dying, murdered at the hands of the master he had served and then betrayed.

"Dumbledore's office then?" Ron asked hesitantly, a frown present on his face as he nodded at the tube Snape had pressed into Harry's hand only moments before. Harry nodded resolutely, turning to head back, the two boys, no _men,_ Hermione amended thoughtlessly, ducking under and through the entrance in sync before they realized their bushy-haired friend had not followed them.

"Hermione?"

She started slightly at her name, curls flying as she snapped her head up to meet the concerned faces of her best friends.

"Go ahead first guys, I'll head up and meet you later" she replied, a strange twinge in her chest compelling her to stay by the dying man's side when she had absolutely no reason to.

They nodded their acceptance worriedly but swept the invisibility cloak over their heads once more. One "Stay safe" later and she was left in the silence of her thoughts, the musty smell of the shack mixed with the coppery tinge of blood in the air, sending her gut writhing.

Hermione paced over to Snape's side, tamping down her nausea furiously. He was on their side, she reminded herself harshly, and she would be damned if she left him to die alone like this. She had hated him fiercely once, hated him so for the cold-blooded murder of their headmaster. Only later when Fawkes had emerged with Professor Dumbledore's last will and testament did they understand that Snape had been Dumbledore's man to the end.

"Miss Gr- Granger" came the raspy croak, startling the witch from her internal musings.

She peered up carefully, assessing her former professor with guarded cinnamon eyes. He was conscious, that much was apparent, although if the blood leaking out of his wounds were anything to go by, that would surely change. His eyes were still closed, thin lips pressed into a hard line with effort in order to hold back the screams she was sure were aching to be released. Flicking her wand with a practised ease, the brunette cast a numbing charm on his body, the spell having an immediate effect when the surly professor sighed in temporary relief. If this was how the man had to go, she wanted to ease as much of his suffering as possible with what mediwitch skills she had picked up. Shortly before their hasty departure from Headquarters, Hermione had taken to secretly apprenticing under Madam Pomfrey, the aged mediwitch having agreed graciously to take her under her wing.

"I. . . I can't do anything about the snake bite. We ran out of bezoars and dittany on the run and –", She babbled, hands wringing together helplessly until she saw him raise a hand weakly to stop her tirade.

"Charm. My pocket. Please." Snape slurred out, his eyes taking on a hazy sheen and sweat breaking out in dots over his forehead. The poison must have entered his bloodstream, she knew. It would work into his cells, all his cells, and they shrivel up and die, she recalled robotically, pages and pages of medical journals flashing before her eyes in an instant.

Honouring the man's last request, Hermione dropped down to her knees, dipping her hand into the pockets of his bulky blood-soaked robes hastily. Feeling about, her fingers finally caught the cool metal surface of an object and she fished it out, holding it out to Snape apprehensively.

It was a charm of a flower. A _lily_ flower, she realized, the meaning of the charm hitting her like a brick.

"Pot- Potter . . . will not succeed" Snape wheezed, an urgency breaking through the haze of his eyes.

"What? What are you talking about?" Hermione choked, panic starting to take hold as she gripped his shoulders harshly, shaking him furiously when he drifted. Her voice shot up several decibels as the fear for her best friend twisted her heart.

"There . . . is an . . . eighth"

"Enervate!" She gritted out impatiently, hoping against hope that the dying man would rouse. Heart pounding in fear and worry, she watched as he stirred minutely.

"I . . . I am . . . sorry" Snape twitched a hand up weakly to point at the charm Hermione held loosely in her hand, an unfathomable look in his dark eyes as he rasped "Portus!"

A beam of white hit the lily charm and enveloped the white-faced brunette, eclipsing her small body. She felt her head spin like a vortex and then, there was nothing.

It was done. 

_Meadowes Manor_

"Herms! Wake up, wake up!" A feminine voice chimed out eagerly. "Come on, lazy bug, don't you want to go to Potters'? Merlin knows it's been ages since maman gave us a day off and it's only a week till I _finally_ go to Hogwarts!"

Hermione felt the fog in her head lift and cracked an eye open, wincing when the morning light flooded her vision. She turned towards the source of the chatter and found herself staring at a blonde girl perched on the foot of her bed, a happy smile lifting her pretty face as she waited.

"Herms . . . any later and maman will have my head for this! Dorcas Meadowes, pureblood ladies are never late for engagements" the girl imitated cheekily, rolling her brown eyes as she spun a strand of dark blond hair around a finger lazily.

At once, a rush of memories invaded her head and sparred. Hermione cried out in pain, cradling her head gingerly when the blonde girl, Dorcas, looked on worriedly, crawling up to rest next to her.

It was as if there were two different Hermione's in her head. In some memories, she was a muggleborn, best friends with a redhead named Ron and a black-haired bespectacled boy, Harry. These memories, she found, carried her from childhood in a comfortable Muggle neighbourhood with her parents Jean and Edward Granger to the end of her sixth year in Hogwarts and the start of her Horcrux hunt with the two men. In others, she . . . she was the ten year old pureblood daughter of Richard Meadowes and his wife, Amélie Meadowes nee Malfoy, raised in their luxurious manor in Godric's Hollow. Younger sister of Dorcas Meadowes, the blonde girl, she realised with a start, who now had her hand resting on Hermione's forehead, mouth pinched in anxiety. She remembered Dorcas, the two sisters always doing everything together, from having lessons with their governess to playing in the gardens overlooking their estate, making daisy chains in the warm summers. With a flash though, all the memories about the _other_ Hermione were slipping away, even as she knitted her brows in concentration and attempted to hold them, bring them back to the surface of consciousness, only to fail.

Trembling in confusion, she scanned her surroundings warily and found herself nestled in a plush canopy bed. The thick drapes of the curtains were swept to the sides, allowing light to illuminate the light blue walls of the room.

"Hermione, are you alright?" concern laced the words of her older sister. Her sibling hugged her close gently, patting her head to soothe her.

"Dor, I'm fine. Let me get ready and we can get some breakfast?" Hermione whispered, peering up at Dorcas who still looked concerned at how pale her sister had gotten upon waking up this morning.

She nodded and plodded her way out of the room, making Hermione promise with a pinky to call Boogy, their house elf, if she needed help.

Hermione tottered out of bed and towards the bathroom she somehow just knew was attached to her suite. A young girl stared back at her in the mirrors. That was her, she knew, Hermione Meadowes. But still, her memory conjured up the picture of a slim young woman with bushy hair and chocolate eyes. The girl in the mirror was in many ways, still a child, on the cusp of being a teenager but not quite. She shared Dorcas's hair, she noted with pleasure, dark blonde in colour though hers laid over her back in soft curls streaked with coffee and auburn strands. Those buckteeth that she had been teased mercilessly for as Hermione Granger were gone, replaced with a set of normal pearly whites. All in all, Hermione Meadowes was a pretty child, she concluded, feeling a tad weird that she was evaluating herself like a third party would.

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

"Hermione, there you are! Le petit déjeuner is ready", her mother greeted cheerfully. Amélie Meadowes was a beautiful woman with straight blonde hair that she had passed down to her eldest, and cinnamon eyes that were shared by the girls. Her husband chortled merrily as he pressed a gentle kiss on Hermione's temple the way she knew he had for all ten years of her short life. A formidable wizard in stature, her father had deep laugh lines etched in the corners of his eyes and mouth and blue eyes that twinkled merrily when he smiled, Hermione knew from memory.

"Good morning père et maman"

Hermione glided over to her seat with a grace she knew she certainly did not possess in her alternate life, seating herself opposite Dorcas who was nearly bouncing in her own seat in excitement. "Maman! What time is Lady Potter expecting us? Can we play some quidditch today pleaseeee? I know James got a new broom for his birthday last month!"

Their mother looked regretful at this and said sadly, "Oh I'm sorry mes chéris, Lady Potter floo called earlier and said James came down with a cold. I am afraid you'll not be going to the Potters' today." Dorcas's sunny smile fell and she pouted, prodding her scrambled eggs around her plate listlessly.

"Oh? Then can we go to Paris with you, père et maman? I miss grand-mère Malfoy" Hermione found herself saying, finding that she did indeed long for the austere but loving grandmother who lived on the opposite side of the Channel.

Her mother chuckled at how close her daughters were to her own mother. "Not today, chéri." She smiled tightly for a minute and exchanged a look with her husband. "Lady Walburga Black has said she would be pleased to invite you girls over for a play date. The Blacks have two boys, the same ages as the both of you I think"

The girls looked on at their parents curiously, the edge in their mother's words having taken them by surprise. Despite being a Malfoy at birth, Amélie Meadowes was unfailingly polite and courteous to everyone who met her and to hear their mother speak like this was a little disconcerting.

Seeing his daughters' confusion, their father sighed deeply. "Girls, the Blacks, no doubt, are a distinguished family. Their House, like ours' trace back to the Sacred 28 but . . . our views on some issues such as blood purity do not align. And Walburga has been known to be rather . . . outspoken" he cleared his throat uncomfortably, "on the subject of this."

"So we would like you to listen to anything she says with a pinch of salt, understand?" their mother joined in, seriousness set in her face.

"Oui, maman" Hermione agreed softly, watching as her sister nodded solemnly in understanding.

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

"Have fun, mes chéris. And take care of your sister, Dorcas" their mother bade gently, fussing over their robes as she herded them to the fireplace. The sisters had been prodded by Amélie to dress up in a set of their nicer robes and they stood side by side. Dorcas, Hermione admired, looked like a perfect little pureblood princess in her pale yellow dress robes with a white ribbon tied to her straight hair. They encircled their mother in a hug and blew a kiss to their father who laughed and pretended to catch it and tuck it into his pocket.

Dancing over to the fireplace with a pinch of floo powder, Hermione laced her fingers with Dorcas as her sister winked at her.

"Grimmauld Place!" 

A/N: I chose the Meadowes for Hermione's new life because the Dorcas Meadowes wasn't really explored in the books so I could take some liberties with the development of their personalities and family history. Now, their mother was a former Malfoy and the Malfoys trace their line back to France. Hence, I do sprinkle in some French here and there, courtesy of Google Translate of course, so if the French isn't very accurate, so let me know!

* Le petit déjeuner: Breakfast

* Père et maman: Father and mother

* Chéri: Darling

Next chapter, look forward to meeting the Black brothers! Reviews make me write faster;)


	2. Chapter 1: Nous , Le Pur

Title: Destiny's Charm

Abstract: Time was not to be toyed with, she understood. But when all hope seems lost, Hermione's destiny changes as she was unwittingly tossed back to the Marauders' era with her memories intact. With the fabric of time re-stitched with the inclusion of a Hermione Meadowes, will history be rewritten this time round? AU. (RB/HG)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe, much to my eternal regret.

A/N: Some clarifications for this fic: Hermione's memories of her life as a Granger are intact _but_ due to the trauma, she will not be able to access them as she should. Instead, they'll reveal themselves at critical junctures and yes, her past life will certainly influence the choices she makes now.

You might notice that her personality is a little different as well because as Hermione Meadowes, she is officially just a child after all and hasn't been touched by the taint of war. She'll mature as the events unfold though, I'll give you that :)

On a side note, I am impossibly heartened by your support, thank you for all your kind reviews, alerts and favourites, I hope this finds you well! x

 _Chapter 1: Nous , Le Pur_

 _/ We , The Pure /_

" _There are winds of destiny that blow when we least expect them. Sometimes they gust with the fury of a hurricane, sometimes they barely fan one's cheek. But the winds cannot be denied, bringing as they often do a future that is impossible to ignore."_

 _Grimmauld Place, August 1973_

Dorcas stumbled out of the fireplace into a lavish sitting room shrouded in darkness. So this is Grimmauld Place, she frowned as she gripped her sister's hand tighter.

The Blacks' ancestral estate seemed to emanate a forbidding aura, even now as her eyes adjusted to the shadows that crept along the ornate chandeliers and shining vases that lined the sitting room, she could feel the strong blood wards guarding the manor pulse. Light peeked in through the arched windows to their right, the heavy emerald curtains obstructing the view to the sprawling grounds outside. The sitting room they were in was spacious, tapering out to a carpeted hallway that led to a spiral staircase leading to what must be the different wings of the manor. Clutching Hermione to her side, Dorcas glanced down at her sister. "Herms, you alright?"

Dorcas had always doted on her little sister. She could remember the first time her parents had come home from St Mungos holding a pink bundle that mewled occasionally. Dorcas, this is your sister, they had told her gently with watery smiles, you're a big sister now. Then, she had just been one and a half years old, too young to understand their words. But she had seen the pride and love flow from their bright smiles and that was enough for her, toddler Dorcas had decided there and then she would be the best older sister in the world. She had crept forward eagerly when her mother knelt down and held the bundle aloft for her perusal. Dorcas's brown eyes had traced the features of the newborn, from the tuft of light blonde hair peeking out from the blankets to the petal-shaped lips that pouted out slightly as the baby, no her sister, slumbered on contentedly. And she had immediately adored her, loved that this tiny little thing was hers to love and hold.

Now, she watched as Hermione, not so little anymore, she smiled wryly, examine the room they had landed in curiously, only pausing when there was the faint sounds of shuffling from down the hallways reached their ears.

"Mmhmm Dor! Someone's coming" Hermione whispered back, her rose tinted robes swishing around her when she half turned her body so she was hidden behind her older sister. Dorcas chuckled and gave her a small hug affectionately, "There's nothing to be afraid of, mon lapin, I will protect you remember?" Her sister nodded gratefully, cinnamon eyes shining as she beamed up at her older sibling.

"Ahem"

Dorcas whirled around and sank into a little curtsy just as her mother had taught her, knowing her sister was doing the same next to her.

"Greetings, Lady Black. Thank you for inviting us over" Hermione said courteously, a pretty smile adorning her face as they looked up slowly to see a tall, imperious looking woman looking at them with a measured gaze. She was beautiful, Dorcas thought, not in the way their mother was, but in a cold, unfeeling way that got under her skin and stayed there. The aristocrat's hair was swept into an elegant chignon, her grey eyes landed on each girl in turn before she smiled; a smile that did not reach her eyes Dorcas noticed warily.

"Such lovely girls you are! Amélie has outdone herself with the both of you" the older woman's eyes gleamed as she walked closer to them and snapped her fingers, "Kreacher!"

"Pop!" A wrinkled house elf appeared next to Walburga with a loud crack. The diminutive creature was a rather unfortunate specimen of its kind Dorcas shuddered delicately, wrinkling her nose as it began hopping from one webbed feet to another, bulbous eyes lit with a manic glee, "Mistress called? Anything Mistress wants, Kreacher is happy to dos!"

Dorcas heard a light gasp from beside her and winced, squeezing her sister's hand in warning to stop Hermione from launching into one of her spiels. Hermione had always been a bleeding heart and she knew the sight of the elf in his stained garbs, no, rags really, would have spurred her to say something rather inappropriate had Dorcas not stopped her in time.

Walburga Black turned from where she was observing each girl and sniffed lightly. "Get the boys down here right now! And tell Sirius not to wear those horrible muggle pants of his, it is terribly unbecoming"

"Yes Mistress" Twirling where he stood, the house elf popped out of sight as quickly as he had appeared.

"Now girls, where were we" The lady of the manor spun back to face them again with a sickly sweet smile painted on her red lips, waving a hand to usher them onto the couch that was placed front and centre in the sitting room. "Now tell me, how _are_ your parents? Last I heard, your father has accepted your ancestral seat in the Wizengamot recently, has he not?"

Keen eyes flitted from one girl to another as they both shifted under the piercing gaze of the older woman who had settled herself comfortably opposite them, hands clasped together though Dorcas wondered fleetingly how she could stand to do that when all her nails had been sharpened to rather menacing points.

Next to her, Hermione visibly brightened at the mention of their father and piped up. "Yes mam, Père has been kept busy at the Ministry with his added duties"

To Dorcas's surprise, the Lady Black leaned forward fluidly at her sister's innocent answer. "Indeed? The Chief Warlock has taken him into his confidence then? Tis a great honour for your House" came the sly query.

At this, Dorcas cut in smoothly, slipping into the formal way of speech drilled into them from years of Pureblood etiquette lessons, "I am afraid not Lady Black, Professor Dumbledore has much on his plate. Père is currently being initiated by Lord Potter"

" _Professor Dumbledore_ , you say? You girls know of the man then"

Dorcas's eyes widened at the slip and winced. _Ah crap, not even five minutes in and already, I've spoken out of turn. Great job Dorcas . . ._

A sharp knock on the heavy oak doors saved the Meadowes girls from parrying, "Good evening, Mother dear. Why, you crafty old dragon you, who have you lured to our lair today?"

With an undignified splutter, Walburga Black shot to her feet red-faced and crossed the room with as much grace as she could muster.

"Sirius . . ." she warned, a dark look flashing, a promise of punishments behind closed doors. "Behave!"

Hermione twisted around in the couch, her inquisitive eyes instantly landing on two black-haired boys, one of whom was smirking cheekily while the other maintained an indifferent disposition although he met her curious eyes with his own. They could have been twins with the number of physical characteristics they shared, she observed placidly, although the one on the right, the still smirking one, was a couple of inches taller, Hermione noted. It appeared they had been lounging before this with the pair dressed down in expensive, well-tailored sweaters and pants. Both had thick mops of raven hair topped off by pairs of stormy grey eyes that were now darting from her to Dorcas with interest, paying no heed to their mother's rebuke. It was obvious that the Black brothers would grow up to be rather handsome.

"Ladies, these are my boys, Sirius and Regulus Black, heirs of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black" the older woman intoned proudly, reserving a look of affection for her youngest whilst she pointed them out in turn. "Mes fils, we have Dorcas and Hermione Meadowes over for tea today" she continued to introduce, "Be a darling and show them around the house would you?"

"And Sirius" Walburga's voice twisted into a snarl, "NO PRANKS!", as she wagged a stern finger in response to said boy's look of mischief.

He rolled his eyes heavenwards and drawled "Yes, yes, you miserable bat. If you would excuse us, we would be absolutely _delighted_ to get outta your stuffy Sleekeazy-ed hair"

Hermione traded an amused smile with Dorcas as they stifled their chuckles at Sirius Black's ridiculous antics, knowing it would not be welcomed by Walburga. The boy himself seemed fearless in the face of his mother's impending eruption, feet even tapping in impatience as he continued to smile at her guilelessly.

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

Regulus Black had been watching the young witch since he and his brother had entered the sitting room at their mother's summons. Watching her _very_ closely in fact, though he affected an outward air of nonchalance. It would not be good for Sirius to catch him staring after all, he mused, nope, it wouldn't, not at all. For all his love for his older brother, he was forced to concede that Sirius had never been able to hold his natural boisterousness in check; it was utterly non-Slytherin the way the ponce couldn't seal his lips, not even to keep a secret!

The youngest heir of the Blacks mentally shook himself from thoughts of his brother and refocused his attention on the little witch, allowing his eyes to drift over her form, appraising her.

 _Hermione Meadowes._

On first glance, the petite witch was nothing special to look at, particularly when compared to the classically beautiful looks of her blonde sister, Dorcas. However, Regulus's interest had been piqued when he was compelled to chance another look at Hermione.

This time, the hair that he had at first dismissed as dirty blond suddenly caught the flickering of what little sunlight streamed in and positively _radiated_ with vitality. _Sweet circe, they throbbed_ , he was fascinated to discover. Lush and in a riot of colours, the tendrils of curls that framed Hermione Meadowes's face daintily appeared to have a life of their own. For a second, Regulus had been incredibly tempted to loop past their audience and snag a curl for himself just to see if it was as springy and soft as it looked. He bet it would, grey eyes locked intently on a single mutinous lock that had sprung free from the ribbon and swayed before him enticingly.

Three times was apparently the charm however and on third stare, he had to admit Hermione Meadowes was unerringly beautiful. All rosy full lips and pert little nose, she far outshone any of the daughters his mother's friends had paraded in front of them. She outshone her own sister, for Merlin's sake, Regulus was quick to evaluate. What really clinched it for him though, were her eyes. Almond-shaped, they were a shade darker than Dorcas Meadowes', but the colour was that of his favourite slab of Honeydukes' finest, a rich melting pool of chocolate.

Would that angelic appearance be matched with the air-headedness and mindless simpering that befell girls like Eleanor Vane and Daisy Parkinson though?

Merlin, he hoped not, fervently sending a silent prayer up that this girl would possess of both beauty and smarts; having another idiotic girl hanging around simply wasn't an option. Eleanor for one, that stupid bint, had worn on his last nerve last week when she had tossed his book away from him carelessly, begging him to take her flying. _The nerve of that annoying chit_ , he sneered mentally. Needless to say, the seething glare Regulus had directed her way for that unsolicited interruption had sent Eleanor scampering out of the library and avoiding him like the plague for the rest of the day.

"Ready to bring these fine young ladies on the grandest tour yet, Reggie? Show 'em the splendours of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black? " Sirius's cheeky voice interrupted his runway thoughts.

Caught off guard, Regulus looked up startled, only to see all four pairs of eyes pinned on his person and he coloured slightly at having been caught daydreaming. "Lead the way, Siri" he replied, quirking a brow as his brother, that massive flirt, winked and bowed gallantly at Dorcas Meadowes. The blonde witch accepting the hand with an answering chuckle, a light blush blooming on her cheeks.

Smooth . . . but _he_ could be smoother.

Grinning smugly, Regulus pivoted on his heel to face the witch that he had trained his eyes on for the better part of the evening. "Would you do me the honour, my lady?" he purred, pumping a fist in victory internally when those chocolate eyes he had so admired darkened minutely before the brunette flashed him a shy smile and moved forward gracefully to tuck her arm through his.

Vanilla . . . and lavender . . .

Scenting the air wafting from Hermione Meadowes as discreetly as he could manage, Regulus rolled the light perfume around and felt his body relax imperceptibly.

She smells good . . .

 _Really_ good.

This girl isn't very tall, he noted distractedly, standing at half a head shorter than him even when she straightened up. Ahead, he could hear the easy chatter from the older pair as Sirius led the older Meadowes witch around their ancestral estate, pointing out this and that, all the while tacking on snide little comments that had the girl in fair hysterics.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

For the second time that day, and that was two times too many, Regulus reminded himself with a scowl, he startled. "Excuse me?"

"I said, you're not much of a talker. I phrased that as a question earlier but now, I stand corrected" A little smirk stole its way across his partner's face as she met his questioning gaze with a tinkling laugh.

So the girl wanted to play huh, he felt an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips though he fought to suppress it. Judging by that smirk that made its reappearance, he had not been successful. Regulus considered her for a minute before he returned wryly, "Better that than speaking great swelling words of emptiness"

It was meant to be a simple answer, nothing more, but her reaction gave him pause. Those eyes, such expressive eyes he marvelled silently, widened slightly and his pretty companion gaped in surprise.

"You . . . you study the Holy Bible?"

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

It had been amidst the silent stare-off between mother and son, really, Sirius Black was going to earn himself a good wallop if he wasn't careful Hermione thought amusedly, that she had first felt his slate grey gaze engulfing her form. The younger Black heir's eyes had flickered up to hers for a moment and she froze instinctively like a prey caught in the snare of a predator.

What was he staring at?

Certainly not her all-encompassing beauty and poise, the brunette witch had snorted to herself, immediately chiding herself for indulging in such vapid thoughts. Back to Regulus Black, did she fancy him the predator and herself the prey then, she had wondered absently.

Now though, she waited impatiently for his answer as to just _how_ he could have quoted as eloquently as he did from the Bible, the epitome of what every self-respecting Blacks professed to loathe. Hermione rather fancied the current reversal of roles- prey to predator- her inner five year old rubbing her hands in glee as she watched Regulus fidget slightly with a loose thread in his jumper with unrestrained mirth.

It was the first time that evening she had seen the boy beneath the cool mask he wore and she found she rather liked what she saw. Taking the time to study the Black heir carefully, Hermione realised she had to retract her initial observation. Cut from the same mould though they were, the brothers had more physical differences than she had given them credit for the first time around.

Yes, his eyes were grey, slate grey to be precise. But they were not the full-bodied grey that his brother and mother owned. Rather, they were speckled with blue flecks throughout. And not just any blue, but a vivid _sapphire_. In them, she could see the sharp intelligence shining through as Regulus considered her calculatingly.

"Our mother believes it is prudent to know thy enemy" he finally replied, the emotionless mask he had donned earlier back in place "So yes, we study the Bible and other contemporary works by Muggles"

The insinuated barb made her bristle, her large orbs flashed tellingly when she felt her temper rise unbidden. "Why do you consider Muggles your enemy then?"

"Such talk in the home of your hosts is unwise, my lady" Regulus said coolly, eyeing her indifferently. "In any case, to answer your question, it is the sort of opinions my House holds, not that _every_ Black does" At this, the black-haired teen dipped his head slightly and sent her a knowing look.

As quickly as it had been aroused, her anger deflated. Intrigued, Hermione turned his words around in her head; this boy was interesting, interesting in a way that ate at her curiosity. Yes, Regulus Black was certainly a puzzle, and if there anything Hermione Meadowes excelled at, it was unravelling them, she thought pensively, accepting his statement with an understanding nod.

This boy was shaping up to be a worthy challenge indeed . . .

"Are you saying that you don't believe in blood purity even if your family does?" her voice lowered into a harsh whisper as she pursued her line of inquiry, she just _had_ to understand.

Nibbling at her bottom lip, Hermione watched the black-haired teen eagerly. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants and rocked on his heels slightly in contemplation. Once more, he peered down at her thoughtfully as if to evaluate whether she would blab. Quickly, the brunette witch moved to reassure him, feigning a zipping motion across her lips and winking impishly, knowing he well understood when the corners of own lips quirked up faintly in response.

"At present, my personal views are fluid" Regulus replied smoothly, before he changed the subject with an abrupt question, "Tell me, what do you know about my family motto, Ms Meadowes?"

"The motto of the House of Blacks is _Toujours Pur_ and it is French for _Always Pure"_ she recited from memory faithfully. _Pureblood Genealogy: Tracing The Sacred 28_ , the main staple of Pureblood education,had informed her on the subject rather extensively and it came in useful for moments such as these.

Her succinct answer had her companion regarding her in admiration for a moment before he drawled, "Have you wondered then, what is the purity that my ancestors took great pains to safeguard?"

More than a little confused by what appeared to be an obvious conclusion, Hermione eyed the growing smirk on Regulus's face in irritation. "Blood of course, what else?" she snapped.

To her consternation, his eyes danced and the smirk, that annoying little smirk she thought resentfully, now spread full-blown when he tsked softly "Why, I took you for a better student than that, Ms Meadowes. The purity that was, and still is for that matter, at stake where my ancestors are concerned is not that of blood, but _magical core"_

Hermione's mind whirled to life as theories and competing studies warred as she worked furiously to deduce what he had just said. When she noticed he had opted not to elaborate but rather to observe her in undisguised gaiety, she parted her full lips to question him further.

"Oi! Hurry up you two!" came the unwelcomed interruption.

Lost in the volleying of words, they had unknowingly reached the end of the corridor and Hermione blushed lightly when she found the curious looks their older siblings sent them as they waited impatiently for them to catch up.

"Alright, my delightful little Meadowes?" Sirius grinned at her disarmingly, "I apologise if Reggie here didn't give you the _positively wonderful_ tour I gave your sister here. The git lost most of them Black charms I'm afraid, when he got dropped on his head as a baby, pity that! He mock sighed as he ribbed Regulus, the latter rolling his eyes at his older brother's theatrics. Dorcas, who still had her arm laced through Sirius's, chuckled and shook her head.

"Oh I assure you, he was more than satisfactory" Hermione chirped mischievously, feeling an unexplained need to defend him, "Though I must say, you Mr Black, aren't very serious for a Sirius, are you?"

Befuddled for a second, the older boy stared at her in surprise before hilarity broke through and he roared in laughter.

"Oh, I like you Hermione Meadowes" he finally managed through gasping breaths, tears leaking through his eyes, "I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship"

And Hermione couldn't help but agree, especially when she spied Regulus Black's blue-grey eyes twinkling at her when he smiled approvingly, a _real_ uncontained smile, she was proud to note.

 _:-***-:-***-:-***-:_

 _Meadowes Manor_

"So how was your day at the Blacks', mes chéris? It sounds like you had fun" Amélie Meadowes had been admittedly surprised but relieved when her daughters popped out of the floo with bright smiles painted on instead of the sullen looks she had expected.

Her eldest, Dorcas, giggled uncontrollably as she cheerfully recounted how the Black boys had guided them around their manor before they had all settled in for a tray of snacks in Sirius's room. Hermione nodded enthusiastically in agreement, adding in her comments about something funny or interesting that had happened.

"I take it Lady Black was nice to you?" she interjected cautiously, raising a brow when the girls paused their stories and pondered.

Walburga Black was one of the biggest bigots Amélie had had the misfortune of meeting but it was inevitable, seeing as they ran in the same circles. Staunch in her views of blood purity, the obstinate woman behaved deplorably whenever she was in the presence of a muggleborn or anyone perceived a bloodtraitor, Amélie wrinkled her nose in disgust.

She watched them in amusement as Hermione tilted her head and frowned, "She was nice but intense, maman! It felt like every question was a trick question. Thank goodness her sons, Regulus and Sirius Black, are nothing like that!" her brunette daughter sighed in relief.

Amélie smiled fondly at the pair as they continued to chatter happily, they were just so precious. During her first pregnancy, she had prayed long and hard that they would be blessed with a boy, an heir to carry on the name of Meadowes. When two pregnancies had borne fruit and she and Richard had added to their family tree two girls, all her earlier prayers were forgotten.

Why would she change anything?

Especially when they had two beautiful baby girls who had taken her breath away the minute the midwives had placed them on her bosom gingerly. Her husband had privately confessed to her sheepishly after her first pregnancy that he had always hoped for a girl. And now that they had not one, but two, well, it was a cause for celebration in the Meadowes household that was for sure!

The couple had showered their daughters with love and in turn, they had blossomed, Amélie thought proudly, stroking Hermione's curls as her youngest curled into her side contentedly for a cuddle.

To think they had just entered the home of the most extreme family this side of Britain and came out with nothing but good things to say, at least about the scions of the family, she amended. Her thoughts turned to the two young boys her daughters were exalting and she considered them pensively. Guilty of the very act she disliked, she admitted sadly that she had stereotyped them to be as prejudiced as their House was. Now it seemed, Walburga's sons might be defying the expectations set on them from birth and Amélie was both sad and happy for the two black-haired youngsters at the same time.

Perhaps, just perhaps, she wondered wistfully, they would herald a new age for the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.

But at what cost to themselves?

Shaking herself from her morose thoughts, Amélie Meadowes resolved she would show the two young boys the same kindness and love she bestowed on her own daughters. They deserved to be nurtured and dare she hope they would one day be as carefree as Dorcas and Hermione. Both of whom were now entertaining themselves delightedly with the magicked butterflies her husband had playfully conjured for them when he had sought out their presence upon hearing the floo activate.

Unexpected though it was, this playdate had been extraordinarily enlightening, she decided.

A/N: So we finally got to meet Sirius and Regulus Black! :) Any thoughts on their interactions? And what of the blood purity theory Regulus was talking about hmm? ;) Drop me a review if you will :)

Regarding updates, I normally upload a chapter when the next is half-completed. That means, by the time you are reading this, the draft for Chapter II would be halfway done :) That's all for now folks, hope you enjoyed this and see you in the next one!

 _Completed: 27.11.15_


	3. Chapter 2: Sois Sage

Title: Destiny's Charm

Abstract: Time was not to be toyed with, she understood. But when all hope seems lost, Hermione's destiny changes as she was unwittingly tossed back to the Marauders' era with her memories intact. With the fabric of time re-stitched with the inclusion of a Hermione Meadowes, will history be rewritten this time round? AU. (RB/HG)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe, much to my eternal regret.

A/N: This turned out to be an absolute _monster_ of a chapter. Originally, I intended to cap it off at 5k but . . . hey, things change, scenes write themselves and well, you just gotta roll with the punches :)

Thank you for leaving me such lovely reviews, adding this story to your favs and alerts! I genuinely enjoy reading all your comments and am incredibly humbled by your support :) Enjoy!

 _Chapter 2: Sois Sage_

 _/ Be Good /_

" _It wasn't goodbye forever. Only goodbye for now. And if ever the distance was too much to bear, she would just look inside her heart, for Agatha was already there."_

 _Meadowes Manor, August 1973_

Hermione was awoken early in the morning by an excitable Dorcas, way too early than was decent on a weekend she frowned surly. Groaning as the first rays of sunlight tickled her face, the brunette peeked a sleep-blurred eye open experimentally. A wide sunny smile greeted her before the older Meadowes sister decided waiting was a lost cause. Resembling a hurricane in action, Dorcas pounced on her unsuspecting younger sister and proceeded to bounce on her makeshift trampoline of a bed.

"Good morning, sister of mine!" cheeriness fairly overflowed as the blonde trilled, brown eyes dancing in laughter as Hermione merely wrenched the covers over her head grumpily to steal a few more blessed minutes of sleep.

Uncaring, the blonde persisted in her attempts to wake her, "Come on Herms! It's time to go Hogwarts shopping today! And oh Merlin, I'm finally getting a _wand_ " Dorcas hyperventilated in excitement, fanning herself anxiously, _A WAND_!"

Acquiring their own wands from Ollivanders Wand Shop, makers of fine wands since 382 B.C, was akin to a rite of passage for young wizards and witches in Britain and Hermione was bursting in envy that she would only be experiencing it for herself in one more year. Today though, she would satisfy herself with sharing in her sister's exhilaration, she promised herself to be a good sport about it for Dorcas deserved having her special day celebrated. Still, no one said she couldn't give her blonde sister hell, just for the sake of it, she thought mischievously.

Slumping miserably, she feigned a piteous tone, "Shopping? Do we have to?" came the muffled moan.

"Psh, don't you miss Flourish and Blotts? I happen to know a new edition of Hogwarts A History is out..." Dorcas hinted in turn, spinning a strand of blonde hair around her pinkie absently while she mentally started the countdown. Everyone knew Hermione was just too predictable when it came to books, and _especially_ when it came to her holy grail.

1, 2, -

The haphazard sheets were flung off hastily by the brunette occupant who glared at her self-satisfied sister. "Well? Let's get dressed, you annoying twit" Hermione squealed in excitement herself, giving up any pretence of annoyance. "And stop smirking!"

"Yes, douce sœur" Dorcas bowed and curtsied playfully before dancing out of the way in a burst of laughter to avoid the slipper her sister had hurled at her head. "Tsk! Maman would be dismayed to see you so unladylike. Be good, little sister" she taunted, watching in amusement when the brunette witch only rolled her eyes and waved a hand in a shooing motion.

It was only a few more days before Dor left for Hogwarts, Hermione sighed sadly. And truthfully, she would miss these mornings. Miss the only times she and her sister could mess around and truly let themselves be. Outside of the four walls of Meadowes Manor however, everything would be different, she mused wistfully. Not even Hermione's beloved Hogwarts, for she felt as if she already knew the castle and all of its wonders like the back of her hand just from her constant reading of the book named after it, would be able to match up.

She was sure of it.

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

 _Twilfitt and Tattings_

The dizzying array of fabrics in every pattern and what amounted to the entire colour spectrum made the wizarding robes establishment a popular choice for the discerning, and _moneyed_ , shopper. In what surmounted to every witch's come true, Twilfitt and Tattings was however, considered the personal hell of Hermione. Complete with self-adjusting measuring tapes and animated masquerades, she shuddered in poorly concealed disgust.

What was wrong with her current robes? Hermione crossed her arms over her cream robes and examined them carefully. She thought that they still gleamed like the day she had gotten them and worked fine, well, fine enough that she didn't need new ones for a while.

The little brunette witch dug her heels in stubbornly as her mother stared her down outside the porch of the robes shop, Dorcas having already skipped right in merrily. Their father had slyly begged out from coming along after hearing about his wife's plans for robes-shopping and Hermione was disgruntled he wasn't here to aid in her escapade.

"Hermione Meadowes, you'll come in right now _"_ Amélie hissed at her youngest daughter, "Or so help me Merlin, or we'll _not_ be going to Flourish and Blotts later, we'll simply have to order Dorcas's books by owlpost instead" The Meadowes matriarch raised a hand to halt the curly-haired witch's protests and arched an eyebrow elegantly. "And don't, for a second, think you can weasel your way out of this through your cousin or James"

Hermione fumed internally, her annoyance causing her previously well-maintained curls to frizz up. Sighing in defeat, she allowed her mother to lead her into the shop reluctantly, the enchanted chimes overhead tinkling softly to announce their arrival.

"Ah, Lady Meadowes, it has been too long! What do you require of my humble establishment today?" Madam Twilfitt greeted politely, twirling her wand in an intricate pattern to unveil a curated selection of bolts of fabric. Likely the finest of the season, Hermione critiqued, brown eyes roving curiously over the yards of laces, silks and velvet. Although the brunette did not count herself a fashion enthusiast like the rest of her family, she was able to appreciate the quality of materials and _these_ certainly looked to be very fine indeed.

Amélie Meadowes replied back in greeting and gestured to her daughters gracefully, her pretty face lit up in pride "My Dorcas will be going to Hogwarts this year and Hermione will be due in a year so we'll be ordering five sets for each of them"

With that, her mother and sister tilted their blonde heads in identical poses to evaluate the fabrics and Hermione snorted in amusement. The manner in which those two approach all things fashion bordered on militant sometimes and she knew it would be a dreadfully long hour before they left the shop. For Flourish and Blott's and the long-awaited revised edition of Hogwarts A History, she consoled herself sympathetically, she would wait.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of platinum hair near the window display. That looked like . . . she hurriedly turned around from the corner of the fitting room where Madam Twilfitt had shoved an armful of robes into her arms to face the exact spot. Outside, braced against the strong winds in his dark emerald cloak, stood her cousin.

"Cousin Lucy!" Hermione murmured in joy, knowing he had heard her when he returned her grin with one of his infamous smirks. Carelessly, she dropped the pile of velveteen material she was holding, ignoring the yelp of indignation from the seamstress, and bounded out to the cobbled pavements where he waited.

The blond boy, no teenager now, she admired, leaned down slightly to accept the kiss she pressed onto his cheeks that were pinking from the cold. Four years older than her, Lucius Malfoy had been present for Hermione's birth as a bored, disgruntled tot who had been dragged, pouting all the way, to St. Mungos against his will by his father, Abraxas Malfoy.

"Family is family" The Malfoy patriarch had growled, adamant that he would be there for his sister's second birth.

Intertwined by the ties of marriage, the two families were undeniably close and the children saw each other often enough through the summer and winter breaks that passed. Enough that both sets of parents had been thrilled to bear witness to the bonds of friendship that had sparked and firmed between the cousins. It was a precious thing to behold and of course, none present could forget the hilarity that had ensued when a precocious Lucius tried getting the then two year old Hermione to say his name, only for the brown-eyed toddler to thoroughly butcher it with a bright gurgle, "Lucy! Luceee"

The appalled look that had twisted up the blond boy's face was a memory for a lifetime and to no one's surprise, as well as Lucius's perennial displeasure, the name had stuck. It had been a slow start but years on, the curly-headed witch had become her cousin's favourite by virtue of the fact she like him, would rather curl up in the library with a good read rather than play dress-up, though the haughty wizard would rather swallow a blast-ended skrewt then admit it out loud. Some things such as love and affection, the blond decided snottily, were best kept secret; wrapped up and stuffed into the deepest darkest corner possible where they had no business of ever seeing the light of day.

Even now, in the middle of Diagon Alley, Lucius Malfoy gave a cursory hug to his cousin, a short and sweet one to keep up appearances, he reminded himself testily. It wouldn't do for a Malfoy to show outward signs of emotion in public, he had been cautioned frequently. And times like these made his father's warning grow ever starker; it was a cold wake-up call that this was a skill he would have to fall back on increasingly.

Years of friendship however, clued Hermione in on the fondness he held; it was simply buried in those mercurial eyes. It had been weeks since she last saw him and already, she sighed, it seemed he had sprouted yet another couple of inches, leaving her feeling rather like an out of place midget as he towered over her.

"Hermione sweetheart, where are Aunt Amélie and my favourite cousin, Dorcas?" He teased lightly, keeping an aloof expression firmly in place despite the sentiment in his words.

The brunette witch stuck out a tongue in response, batting her eyelashes as she simpered, "You lie, we all know I'm your favourite, Lucy!" earning a disgusted sneer from her cousin. "And they are in Twilfitt's, we are supposed to get fitted for new robes" this was said in a low mutter when the door to said shop jingled open.

"Hermione Meadowes! What on earth possessed you . . . Ah, Lucius dear, oh how tall you've grown!" her mother fussed dotingly, coming down from her angry high when she spotted to whose robes Hermione was clinging to.

As the aunt and cousin pair exchanged greetings and small talk, Dorcas emerged from the store buoyantly, clutching bags of new robes though she promptly dropped them much like Hermione did when she spotted her cousin. "Cousin Lucyyyy" the blonde witch sang as she engulfed the embarrassed wizard in a hug, knowing any physical sign of affection was a big no-no in his books. Passing wizards and witches all stared at the sight, some audacious ones even daring to hide their chuckles behind gloved hands discreetly. Malfoy's, in particular the older one, were simply not known to be so . . . exhibitionist.

"I think that's my signal to leave" he coughed uncomfortably, a small sneer in place, sending the Meadowes witches into laughing fits, "Good day aunt and cousins, we shall meet again on Hogwarts Day?"

The witches nodded, waving their hands in farewell as they watched the teenager straighten up haughtily and weave his way confidently through the crowds that had descended upon Diagon Alley. Despite being all of fourteen years, Hermione was well aware her male cousin already exuded a formidable presence effortlessly, evidenced by how fellow shoppers unconsciously sidestepped out of his way.

When had the boy who sipped warmed pumpkin juice with her in the library, reading her story after story, grown up?

When had he learnt to simply pick up and put on that emotionless mask, as if it were the skin born to him, when the situation called for it?

Hermione frowned worriedly, joining her mother and sister in their leisurely stroll to Ollivanders' although her mind was admittedly worlds away. She didn't like that her Lucius was changing, and for what it seemed, not for the better. Unbridled uneasiness rose; her cousin had always been the unflappable sort and _something_ had shaken him.

She could tell, could see it in the heavy set of his shoulders when they had adjoined in the Meadowes library last week, had seen it even before then, though she had not recognised it for what it was. Where before they had shared the space to simply read together in the soothing quiet and warm fireplace, over the years, it had become more of a ritual for the two, to simply talk and catch up. But weeks prior, as they had settled down into the settee in companionable silence, the blond wizard had been instantaneously lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed blankly on the roiling storms stirring outside the window. He had hid it well, she would give him that, she knew her Malfoy cousin could be every inch the snake he had been sorted into Slytherin for, but Hermione understood him far too well to fall for the mask.

Most tellingly however, he had unwittingly started tapping his feet which she _knew_ was one of the nervous ticks that he was determined to rid himself of. _Too open, too obvious_ , he had explained to her patiently once, _and it leaves you exposed for all to see and exploit_. That had sealed it for the curly-haired little witch.

Yes, something was definitely wrong with Lucius Malfoy and even if the blond prat wouldn't tell her, she would find out why, Hermione resolved silently, lips pressed into a determined line.

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

 _Ollivanders Wand Shop_

The nondescript black door creaked softly as they knocked once before entering. Through the dusty shop window, a single wand case could be seen on display, a gnarled oak wand floating above it, shooting out a shower of sparks periodically. Hermione and Dorcas peered around in wonderment, eagerly taking in the thousands of narrow boxes balanced precariously atop wooden shelves that had clearly been the end of many a cleaning charm.

"Lady Meadowes" A sprightly silver-haired man appeared behind the shelves, wrinkled face breaking out in a grin as he flicked a spell at the shelves deftly. Multiple wand cases extricated themselves from the shelves and floated in file till they hovered before the small family. "I had a feeling I would be seeing young Dorcas today"

Her sister started slightly at hearing her name, a surprised gasp escaping her at how Mr Ollivander seemed to knowher. It shouldn't have been possible, after all, this was their first time visiting his shop.

Amélie Meadowes smiled back in greeting, indicating the witch he had accurately named, "Yes, my daughter Dorcas would need a wand, if you please"

The wizened wandmaker turned his attention to his customer, looking at her closely with his friendly baby blues before holding out a hand, "If I may measure your wand arm?"

Mystified, Hermione observed the wandmaker tap his wand at Dorcas's dominant arm wordlessly when she extended it, muttering to himself as a gleaming measuring tape shot out like a ribbon, curling itself along the length of her sister's arm for a moment before it vanished in lacerated pieces. Rubbing his stubbled chin in consideration, Mr Ollivander plucked one of the wand cases out of the air from where it floated, "Ms Meadowes, give this a swish please. Mahogany and unicorn hair, eight inches, swishy"

With a gentle nudge, a piece of dark wood emerged and the wandmaker offered it to the blonde witch reverently. Dorcas's hand wrapped around it, for barely a minute, before the man shook his head sharply and snatched it back, going back in search for the right wand.

Seven discarded wands and a couple of wand fires that had to be put out later, Mr Ollivander held another wand up, a twinkle of excitement flickering in his eyes. If she didn't know any better, Hermione would have thought he enjoyed this. Then again, she noted wryly, he probably did, finding the right wand for a wizard or witch was very much like solving a mystery. A mystery on their temperament, what they were capable of and where their magical talents lie. Wandlore was a complex and secretive branch of magical theory, Hermione knew, and certain combinations of woods and magical cores were favoured by varying Houses. Or could it be that it was the other way round, she wondered curiously, pursing her lips in contemplation as her mind raced. It was worth a thought, perhaps it was that each family was partial to a particular type of wood or core. The Meadowes for one, were known to be bearers of wands embedded with a strand of unicorn hair.

"Try this! Willow paired with unicorn hair, ten inches, bendy" Right on cue, the harried wandmaker proffered yet another wand to her sister.

Wearily, Dorcas looked at their mother who nodded back encouragingly. "The wand chooses the witch, Dor. You'll find the one meant for you" Hermione whispered reassuringly to the despondent girl now fidgeting in the gold-edged chair in unease. Her sister had been getting increasingly exasperated with every wand that failed to work for her and she was near grimacing as she finally set eyes on the eighth wand. Gripping her little sister's hand in her own tightly for dear life, Dorcas hesitantly touched the light coloured wand. Mr Ollivander, bless his little cotton socks Hermione was amused to see, positively quivered in anticipation and cheered gleefully when a bright light flared out from the tip of the willow wand.

Looking up at them with undeniable relief, Dorcas lunged up and tackled her mother and sister with a hug, her cheeks flushed in happiness "Did you see! I found my wand! And . . . and it's so beautiful!" The last exclamation came out in a sob as the little blonde caressed the length of her newfound wand lovingly, brown eyes alight in flaming embers.

"Congratulations Dor!" Hermione and Amélie smiled, their mother joined in with some light-hearted teasing, winking conspiratorially, "And you continued the family's tradition of unicorn hair cores! Your father would be pleased"

Until now, the old wandmaker had stood back in the corner inconspicuously while watching the scene unfold fondly. But now, he walked out of the shadows, inviting the ladies to the counter for the matter of payment.

"Perhaps young lady Hermione here will add to the collection of unicorn hair cores" Mr Ollivander chuckled merrily, taking the wand case and wrapping it up expertly before accepting the galleons Amélie handed him graciously.

"I don't think so"

Though it was murmured softly, the wandmaker's keen ears picked up on it and he wavered in his writing of the ledger to adjust the horn-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose and study the little witch, the other two witches not having caught the whispered confession.

"No, Ms Meadowes?" it was unnerving having those intelligent eyes scrutinizing her so intently nd Hermione couldn't help but shiver in response.

"I have a feeling the wand that pledges its allegiance to me will be . . . "At this, the brunette witch paused abruptly, feeling as if something was wrestling and rising within, her brows knotted together in concentration when it broke through in triumph; the memory having fought to the surface of her consciousness.

" _Ah, Ms Granger, tough one are you? No worries, Ollivander's will have the wand for you!"_

" _I've a good feeling about this one . . . Vine wood, dragon heartstring, ten and three-quarters inches and surprisingly swishy!"_

 _A flash of a wand with an intricate vine design carved on the handle._

" _Ah yes! A lovely fit no doubt! A quick study, that one is, it'll lead you to great things Ms Granger . . . "_

Hermione gasped aloud, stumbling as she gripped her head gingerly and winced. "Herms, what happened?" Alerted to the commotion, Dorcas and Amélie fluttered to her side in a panic, grasping the young witch's arms to ground her as the old wandmaker looked on concernedly.

"No, no, I'm fine" she finally bit out, easing out of her hunched over position "Really, it's just a head rush that's all"

Though they shot her disbelieving looks, the two witches nodded fretfully and thankfully, ushered her out of the store, eager to get her home for some rest.

It was just before she took the step taking out of the store that Hermione turned around slightly to face Mr Ollivander. The wizard must have felt her stare for he glanced up in turn and sent her a searching look, although this time, she found herself unperturbed by the blatant curiosity displayed in them.

"Dragon heartstring" the young witch whispered furtively, brown eyes locked on blue, "It'll be dragon heartstring" With a dainty step, she was rejoining her sister and mother, a soft tinkle the only audible sign the wandmaker was the only one in his store again.

"So it might seem . . . "

She had left him with a lot to think about.

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

 _Meadowes Manor_

"Good morning Lord and Lady Meadowes, thank you for the kind invitation. Our mother passes on the message that she would be thrilled to return the favour at the earliest possible" A familiar voice greeted Hermione as the sleepy brunette stifled a yawn and trudged down to the dining room still clad in her silk nightie in what her parents had jokingly named the zombie march.

It was Sunday and Sunday meant breakfast in the kitchens with pancakes and whipped cream. This Sunday was extra special as it would be their last together before Hogwarts Day arrived the next day and Hermione was determined to thoroughly luxuriate in this family tradition of theirs' and imprint it in her mind. The little witch had floated away in a happy daze as she imagined the decadent feast that was, for some reason, _not_ in the kitchens, scowling at the depressing turn. She had found that out the hard way after traipsing from bed to kitchens only to be informed by the elves that their parents had decided to take their customary morning affair to the spacious dining room instead.

Just what were her parents doing, Hermione grumbled internally, a pout already forming on her full lips. Her cream-coloured nightgown glowed with a golden hue as the sunlight reflected down on it.

"Hermione dear . . . Dear Merlin, you need to change!" The young witch registered her mother's shrilly shriek, finally taking in the fact that there was a guest present. Her father chanced a glance up from the papers he had been perusing and chortled in good humour at his wife whose face was red from exasperation. Their oldest had waltzed down in much the same manner only to be sent back, tail tucked firmly between her legs. Hermione's chocolate eyes popped open as they landed upon a shock of ebony hair.

It couldn't be . . .

Oh yes it could, her shoulders slumped and she let out an embarrassed squeak as she forced her eyes up only to meet the laughing ones of a lightly smirking boy. The blue-grey sparkled as he dragged his gaze slowly up and down her form much to Hermione's mortification, ticking up a raven brow in question when she blushed furiously. After triple checking to make sure her parents' backs were turned, she aimed a scowl at the boy, who was _still_ watching her with that infuriating smirk she fumed, and poked out a tongue at him. That, however, seemed to have the opposite effect as it merely served to increase his amusement, she noted sourly.

"Erm . . . don't mind me, I'll be right back!" Holding herself together with as much dignity as she could muster, Hermione tried not to make for her chambers in a flat out run.

Regulus Black was an evil git, she sulked internally, for ruining her cosy Sunday routine. How dare he!

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

"You still haven't told me what you meant last week you know"

Regulus broke off his staring match with the bluebird that hopped outside around the gardens in Meadowes Manor. Damn, a bird had bested him, he mused sardonically, though the distraction couldn't really be helped he supposed.

Nonetheless, the Black heir turned towards the source of the interruption. Ah and there she was, he hid a grin, his curious little oiseau. It would have bothered him if he had noticed he had mentally referred to the curly-haired witch as his, but as it happened, he did not. Upon the Meadowes witches' departure from Grimmauld Place a week ago, he had spent nearly an entire evening in deliberation, for no good reason other than he could, and come to a realization. Neither grand nor momentous, it was simply that Hermione Meadowes fairly resembled a dove in temperament.

Inquisitive but oh so easy to startle, he thought smugly, yes, she was his little oiseau indeed. Regulus found distractedly that he rather liked the musical lilt of his creative nickname for her. The witch stood in front of him casually, now dressed in a set of rather fetching powder blue robes, trying desperately to affect a nonchalant tone even though the innocent look on her face was belied by the burning eagerness in her eyes. Her sister, Dorcas he believed, had flounced out of the tour they had been requested to give him by their parents as soon as they had set foot in the library. Evidently, the older Meadowes girl did not share her sister's love of learning, pity that.

He had been understandably surprised and apprehensive the night before when his mother had sat him down after dinner to announce that both he and Sirius had been invited to Meadowes Manor the next day. Walburga Black had of course given his brother no choice in the matter after she had caught him, red-handed no less, planting a landmine of dungbombs in her powder room. Enraged, she had screamed herself hoarse at the unrepentant boy and grounded him for the remaining days.

Whilst his father, Orion Black, had offered no opinion on the issue, choosing instead to partake in his meal silently, the Black matriarch had been quick to express her support in her typical veiled manner. Without her explicitly stating any reason, Regulus could still, quite accurately he thought, take a stab at his mother's reasoning.

She might think her son oblivious but Regulus was no puppet to be manipulated, his lip curled. Really, he had cottoned on to the fact she was dangling them out like bait before the betrothal market when the old bat had started inviting pureblood girls round Grimmauld every other day under the guise of playdates this year. Scoping out the offerings and picking out the ones she favoured was _exactly_ what his darling mother had in mind. Even Sirius, thick as he was sometimes when it came to Walburga's scheming, had caught on and to say his brother was not pleased, was a gross understatement. Come to think of it, the case of dungbombs he had left for a surprise present to their mother was probably a _repayment_ , the younger Black heir smirked.

Still, back to the matter of the Meadowes' invitation . . .

Accepting would mean giving into the machinations, his blue-grey eyes narrowed in irritation at the thought. But the alternative did not merit consideration. He could not deny that he wanted to see the girl for himself again. It had been scant days since pretty little Hermione Meadowes had pranced into his life and against all odds, she had managed to capture his attention and ordered his mind to march to a rhythm of her own construct. Right infuriating it was, Regulus groused surly, the way the little slip of a girl was more of _everything_ he wanted. More beautiful, more intelligent, more calm, and the list went on.

That aside, just what did the Lord and Lady of the manor had in mind was the prominent question skimming the forefront of his brain. Purebloods themselves, they might have been thinking along the same lines as his mother but it didn't add up. He folded up his legs under him and dragged a hand through his hair carelessly. No matter, his mind was made, Regulus had decided resolutely. He would just have to pay a visit to ascertain their intentions. And if he got to see his delightful oiseau at the same time, a smirk played at the corner of the boy's lips, it would simply be a happy coincidence.

"Meant by what?" His cool reply clearly wasn't what she expected.

The object of his attentions gave him a rather bland look in return, crossing her arms in vexation even as he spied an unintentional pout forming on her rosy lips. "You mentioned something about the purity of magical cores remember? I want to hear more about it"

From where he lounged on the couch in front of the roaring fireplace, Regulus sent the witch a relaxed smirk. "If you're going to make demands of my person, at least say my name Ms Meadowes"

The poor thing was looking utterly flummoxed, the Black scion had to resist the urge to pull her into his arms but instead let his smirk pull wider, knowing it annoyed the bejesus out of the witch. As expected, the confusion gave way to an irate look; she narrowed those chocolate eyes at him. It rather suited her, he admired silently, mesmerised as the discontentment of the witch projected itself in how they made her neatly tamed curls tighten into coiled ringlets and by _Merlin,_ her eyes, they glowed a molten gold!

"It's Regulus, say it" The boy purred beguilingly, watching his little dove intently as she lifted her chin bravely and muttered something inaudibly. "I don't think I caught that, pet" Regulus tsked and tapped her on her pert nose lightly in admonishment, continuing to bait her "Or are you the type to bow at the first sign of adversity?"

"Regulus" she finally gave in, staring into the wall stubbornly to avoid looking at him.

Riling Hermione Meadowes up was quickly becoming his favourite past time, the warm feeling that simmered in his chest whenever she was paying attention to him had dipped into nothingness for a second and flared back to life with a vengeance when she had murmured his name gently. Hearing her melodious voice caress the syllables of his name did things to him, he realized belatedly with a barely noticeable shiver, _very_ pleasant things.

A deal was a deal and now that she did her part, it was up to him now. Although, he smirked once more, he never did say how he would fulfil his end of the bargain. Regulus gracefully stood up and dusted invisible lint off his robes meticulously, angling towards the door subtly "The answer you seek lies in the text _Theory on Origins, Magical Cores and Signatures_ "

He passed her just in time to see her mouth drop.

"I recommend the original text and nothing less Hermione, thank you for the enthralling tour and good day" the ebony-haired lad bade charmingly as he swept out, flashing her a wink on his way.

It was halfway down the corridor when he heard a small shriek of frustration echo from the library. Shame, he snickered cheekily, he had pegged her for less. No matter, Regulus would be sure to stick around for the aftermath next time, his pretty oiseau would undoubtedly be _magnificent_ in her rage.

This morning had been, he hummed contentedly, a more than welcome change to his normal dreary routine.

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

 _King's Cross Station, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, September 1973_

The ends of her striped scarf were fraying. And the black robes she wore today were turning out to be a bad choice on her part; the colour an accurate reflection of her mood, she noted morosely, not bothering to look up as she hung back.

"Hey, hey, Herms" her sister coaxed gently when she noticed the moping brunette, "Look at me"

Sighing, Hermione met Dorcas's concerned orbs and allowed her older sister to pull her into a hug. Richard and Amélie Meadowes watched on fondly at the sweet display from the sidelines. Instinctively, the curly-haired witch snuggled in, greedily taking this one last bit of warmth and comfort before they would be reunited during Yuletide. "I'll miss you Dor"

The whispered confession was accompanied by a slight sniffle that made the arms around her tighten before a hand alighted on Hermione's curls and stroked them affectionately.

"You know I'll miss you too mon lapin, but here, take this" A piece of parchment was waved victoriously in front of the younger Meadowes witch after her sister disengaged from their hug to rummage in her trunk briefly. "This _amazing_ enchanted bit of magic here acts as a two-way parchment! It lets us communicate anytime and anywhere! Papa charmed it himself! " Dorcas announced gleefully, nearly bouncing in excitement as Hermione's miserable mood was instantly dispelled.

"Oh really? Thank you Dor, I love it! Do you promise to write?" she looked up hopefully, a bright smile lighting up her face when her sister nodded enthusiastically in reply. "Everyday!"

"Mes chéris, it's nearly time, we promised the Malfoys we would meet them here, keep a lookout for them would you?" Richard Meadowes stepped forward, joining in his daughters' conversation. The broad man had gladly taken it upon himself to charm the parchment after his oldest had presented her idea to him and shot him _those_ eyes pleadingly. Those blasted puppy dog eyes that he always fell for, hook line and sinker. Not that he wouldn't have done it otherwise, for the handsome wizard positively _adored_ his two princesses. Adored them with a fierce devotion that his wife teased him incessantly for.

"Uncle Richard!" A blindingly blond head bobbed out from the crowds, approaching the family where they were stood.

Lucius Malfoy cut his way smoothly to them, his parents gliding behind him. The Meadowes and Malfoys greeted each other warmly, the two sets of parents going into a huddle to catch up briefly.

"Cousins" The teenager intoned, accepting the girls' hugs grudgingly when they launched themselves at him. Again with the hugging nonsense, Lucius rolled his eyes in aggravation, they _really_ had to learn there was a time and place for such things. However, his gaze softened noticeably when it fell on the faded tear tracks on Hermione's face. "Someone hating on Hogwarts Day?" he directed the question at Dorcas, rubbing his favourite cousin's arm sympathetically when her sister nodded.

Hermione pouted, stomping her foot on the paved ground "Easy for you to say Lucy, you aren't the one getting left behind"

This time, he and Dorcas exchanged a smile before her sister leant down and clasped her gloved hands with Hermione's, looking at her seriously, "You'll never be alone, mon lapin. Even when we are apart and you think we have upped and left and forgotten you, you'll _never_ be alone. You'll always be in our thoughts and here" she patted her younger sister's hand against the thrumming centre of her chest. "And we'll be in yours" Dorcas promised sweetly.

Before Hermione could respond, a shrill whistle reverberated in the chilly autumn air. The Hogwarts Express, loaded with bulging trunks and crawling with chattering students, was down to its last signal before it set out for its journey.

"We have to go now Dorcas"

Giving both of them a final hug, the teary-eyed brunette watched sadly as they were passed along to their parents for more words before they made their way to the train swiftly.

Hermione's eyes tracked her cousin and sister all the way till Lucius heaved himself onto the train, holding out a hand to help Dorcas up. The blonde witch made a grab for her cousin and burst out in laughter when he sent her a dirty look and sniffed airily. When she at last twisted around to face the platform and found Hermione and their family in the thronging crowds waving in farewell, Dorcas focussed on her little sister's sad smile.

"Herms!" she yelled, hoping against hope the roar of the Hogwarts Express wouldn't drown out her voice, " _Be good_ "

And it hadn't.

Hermione's sad smile transformed into a genuine one. She would.

A/N: So the time has come for the sisters to split! So we finally got to meet Lucius, what do y'all think about their relationship? :)

I'll be leaving for a holiday (in Finland!) in a couple of weeks so I hope to put out as many chapters as I can before I leave y'all high and dry for around two weeks! x

 _Completed: 01.12.15_


	4. Chapter 3: Tente Ta Chance

Title: Destiny's Charm

Abstract: Time was not to be toyed with, she understood. But when all hope seems lost, Hermione's destiny changes as she was unwittingly tossed back to the Marauders' era with her memories intact. With the fabric of time re-stitched with the inclusion of a Hermione Meadowes, will history be rewritten this time round? AU. (RB/HG)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe, much to my eternal regret.

A/N: Welcome back! This chapter took awhile but here it is! I'll be flying off over the weekend so I can only hope I can get the next chapter out in time for Christmas :) I'm getting into the holiday groove so cookies and peeping santas for y'all! (only my favourite lush bath companion for you lot)

Also, some review replies in the A/N at the end of this chapter :)

 _Chapter 3: Tente Ta Chance_

 _/ Take A Chance /_

" _This moment or this chance they are the same and they are mine if I choose them and I do. I want them. Now and as long as I can have them they are both precious and fleeting and gone in the blink of an eye don't waste them. A moment and an opportunity and a life, all in the unseen tick of a clock holding me nowhere. My heart is beating."_

 _Meadowes Manor, September 1973_

"Maman?"

Amélie Meadowes startled slightly, pale hands pitching forward to break her stumble into the rose bushes she had been tending to. Relieved that she hadn't made the acquaintance of any of those nasty thorns, perhaps it was time to remove those she noted, the elegant blonde swirled upright to face her pink-cheeked daughter who squirmed in embarrassment.

"Really Hermione, give this old lady some warning" Amélie teased lightly, "What is it dear?"

Realizing she wasn't about to get into trouble, the little brunette perked up immediately, joining Amélie by her side eagerly when the older witch crossed over to the courtyard and patted at the marble bench beside her. It was early dawn and the slight drizzle had left a sheen of morning dew on the cool surface but the two witches were unconcerned, content to enjoy the ruffling of the breeze outdoors.

Her youngest daughter had descended into full-on moping mode the past week with the absence of her sister, the usually bubbly and inquisitive girl becoming increasingly reticent until even her governess had drawn the lady of the manor aside to express her concerns. It had only let up briefly when Matty, the speckled family owl, had soared into the manor one morning, Dorcas's letter in its clutches. To no one's surprise, the outgoing blonde had been sorted into Gryffindor. She had chattered on about her new dorms and tacked on at the end a last bit of news. News that had sent eyes widening round the dining table.

 _Oh, and Herms, remember Sirius Black? That charming ponce actually got himself landed in Gryffindor, imagine that! He seemed rather nice though and he clicked with James right away too!_

Imagine that, indeed. Richard had sent her an amazed look as they both pondered the upheaval that _had_ to be happening in response to this bombshell over at Grimmauld Place. She wasn't sure about Orion Black, that man had always kept to himself and his own but Walburga Black . . . now _that_ was one witch who would be going round the bend and back at the news. Really, Amélie half expected the woman to send a volley of Howlers to the poor boy, she thought disconsolately.

"Maman, why did you and papa invite Regulus Black over when you don't . . . care for their family much? Curiosity tinged the innocent words as Hermione stumbled over how to phrase the delicate question.

Lady Meadowes chuckled quietly, watching her daughter's head shoot up in surprise "No son should have to bear the sins of the father, mon cher. The young Black is his own person and he should only be responsible for his own actions" A light of understanding flickered in her brown eyes as she nodded thoughtfully. Her mother could nearly see the gears grinding as the brunette turned the words over her head in deliberation.

What went unspoken was that Amélie had told her husband of her theory in the privacy of their chambers after the first playdate. And Richard, that wonderful, wonderful man, the blonde witch thought fondly, had agreed to extend regular invitations to Orion and Walburga's sons. Not a moment went by in their thirteen years of marriage without him surprising her at every turn with his open-mindedness and respect and she loved him dearly for it.

Amélie watched in amusement as Hermione continued to puzzle out something in her head distractedly, paying no heed when her mother leaned back to manipulate her unruly curls into a neat French braid.

Of her two daughters, Hermione had always been the more bookish, less girlish one. While Dorcas, the blonde-haired sprite, thrived on dolls, makeup and dresses, her younger sister shied away from them, preferring the comfort and intimacy of the written word. Consequently, as the girls grew older and came into maturity, both she and Richard hadn't been surprised at all that their personalities had bloomed the way they did. Intelligent and bashful, their youngest had grown to be a thoughtful young lady, a tad too thoughtful if some were asked but it didn't bother the Meadowes one bit.

When it seemed the young girl had finally come to a decision of sorts, it was a decisive nod that alerted the girl's mother.

Hermione smoothed the wrinkles in her robes before turning to her mother with the sunny smile she had missed all week. "Shall we invite him over for tea tomorrow then? The little witch ventured, fingering her braid as she kicked her legs up in the air carelessly, head tilted back in calm relaxation. "After my lessons though! Governess Eileen said she'll test me on the theory we went through . . ." She hurriedly added, pretty face lit up in guileless glee as her mind turned back to the work they had been doing.

"Yes we shall, Hermione"

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

"So can I expect this to be a regular occurrence Ms Meadowes?"

The polished drawl of Regulus Black came from the direction of the bench he had promptly settled himself on when Hermione's parents had left them to their own devices after the customary scone and tea. Now, Hermione paused in her strolling to quirk an eyebrow at the boy. He was sitting stiff-backed, robes falling in a pool around him though his head was tilted back towards the pavilion.

"Well?" He gazed at her, eyes probing.

Plopping herself onto the ground carelessly, she shrugged "Sit with me Regulus"

"I'm not partial to frolicking around in the dirt Ms Meadowes" His lip curled in disgust when she rolled her eyes in response and simply laid down, eyes closed in peaceful enjoyment.

"That's Hermione to you" she opened her eyes lazily, aiming a small smile his way, "And its carpet grass you ninny, it's perfectly soft and comfortable"

The brunette patted the grass next to her, watching in undisguised fascination when he eyed it briefly before he got to his feet hesitantly to join her. She turned back to her studying of the evening sky; the altocumulus clouds glazing streaky tendrils of white against a pristine canvass of blue. It would be lovely to paint again if the good weather kept up, Hermione made a mental note to suggest it to her parents, she knew they would greatly enjoy having a new art piece in the parlor.

Her inane musings continued before she remembered his original question with a start "Would you like to be a regular occurrence?" she asked softly.

Regulus crossed his arms behind him, pursing his lips in thought before he appeared to relax minutely. "Yes, I think I would . . . Hermione" he finally said, admiring the small smile that had graced her face when her name fell from his lips.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, neither keen to disturb the tacit truce. The last two occasions when they had met hadn't stopped them from crossing swords from the get go but this . . . this was a nice change, she thought he almost seemed tolerable. Only when he was silent of course, she hid a cheeky smile before it showed, the boy annoyed her like no other when he deftly returned her question for question instead of giving her the answers she needed. Hermione wasn't used to meeting a counterpart who challenged her way of thought and came out on top, often time, she presented facts and opinions so smoothly and confidently that most were content to accept them for truth and leave it at that. Not this boy though, a little frown appeared as she admitted to herself begrudgingly, he kept her on her toes and left her positively thrumming in intellectual anticipation and curiosity in his wake. There was also that matter of . . .

"I read the book you recommended" she informed him primly, a lecturing tone inflecting her words " _Theory on Origins, Magical Cores and Signatures_ clearly states that the magical core lies on a higher plane of existence and its potential is channelled into the material plane of existence that is a wand. Its longevity and purity is wholly dependent on the –"her impassioned voice faltered when he held up a hand languidly.

"You got everything right except for that last sentence Hermione" he said, craning his neck to face her calmly when he started to feel the force of her glare burning a hole in the side of his head. A fiery one, she sure was, he smirked innocently back at her. "The author of _Theory on Origins, Magical Cores and Signatures_ is Sir Mallick, a wizard of Indian origin who adopted the essence of the Sanskrit Gita in his synthesis of the magical core. The Bhagavad Gita itself offers a Brahmanical perspective of the Dharma."

He glanced at her to check if she was following and found her lost in thought, quietly contemplating the gravity of what he had just said.

"Know that the Self is the rider, and the Core the chariot; that the Wand is the charioteer, and Blood the reins."

This seemed to break the pretty brunette from her trance. She twisted around, eyes blazing wildly as she grabbed his hand and gave it a rough shake. "That's it! All along, he didn't mean blood, not in the literal sense anyway!" He nodded admiringly at her swift deduction. His attention, however, remain riveted to where her hand was still wrapped around his and oddly, he found himself wanting this moment to prolong itself. Touch or any form of physical affection wasn't something he was accustomed to.

"He meant that our magical ability is tied to the accessibility of our magical cores, didn't he? It's all about probabilities! Purebloods have a higher probability that their genome will grant their offspring accessibility to their magical cores. And muggleborns . . . "

"Are a complete genetic wildcard" he completed airily, "They are afraid bringing in muggleborns will results in more squibs and compromise the integrity of the next generation's magical core" relishing the light of understanding that dawned in her chocolate eyes before they took on a determined sheen.

"You know about genes then?" she returned eagerly "But every individual's probability varies, if we can isolate the genes that allows wizards and witches accessibility to their magical core, then, then this will eradicate the whole basis for blood purity!"

He snorted, tightening his grip on her hand when she moved to withdraw from him huffily, "It's not that simple Hermione, our kind doesn't have any idea of what science is, let alone biology" Regulus held up a hand again when he saw her prepare herself for a rebuttal, "And before you say anything, I only have a cursory understanding because remember, know thy enemy"

She visibly deflated then and her bottom lip jutted out slightly, the black-haired boy internally wondered if she knew just how unintentionally adorable she looked right then.

"You haven't snarked me once today" Hermione commented suddenly, surprising herself and her companion with the change of topic, "Why is that so?"

From the corner of her eyes, she saw his one side of his lips curl up faintly. He looked peaceful with his eyes closed and dare she say it, a small smile. At rest, the tension that wound the boy up tight seemed to melt away. Without that hard exterior he usually put up, he appeared _young_. Young and vulnerable, something she was sure he didn't let himself be often, she mused sadly. He adjusted himself casually, still with his eyes closed, bunching up the midnight robes so they formed a velvety cushion. "You only have to tell me if you miss it Hermione" he hummed contentedly, cracking an eye open to wink at her audaciously "I aim to please"

Even though he couldn't see it, she rolled her eyes and chose to turn so she could prop herself up on her elbows. "Be careful Regulus, you're one snarky comment away from facing the wrong end of my wand" Hermione sniffed, never mind that _technically_ she, or he for that matter, hadn't and wouldn't be getting her wand until they were both set for Hogwarts next year.

Apparently, her threat didn't sound as dangerous as she had hoped it would, for his grey-blue eyes flew open and flooded over with mirth. The hearty chuckles that spilled forth forced him to heave up from his makeshift resting spot as she mock scowled. But even that faded away when she spotted _it_.

 _It_ turned out to be a dimple.

 _Regulus Black_ had a dimple.

A little dent stretched taut across his alabaster skin by the force of his laughter. And holy Merlin, but it was adorable and she was struck by a childish desire to trace it with a fingertip.

"Regulus" she suddenly said, "You . . . you have a dimple"

Face flushed and dimple flashing, he came down from his hysterics instantly, his eyes losing the hilarity they held before.

"No I don't!" he spluttered, watching as she raised a brow silently in challenge.

"Cut it out, there's nothing okay?" his voice was flat now, posture screaming of defiance.

Hands perched on her hips, she pouted, irrationally disappointed that her dimple wasn't visible anymore "I'm telling you, I saw it! You don't have to lie about it you know"

He growled, a low throaty sound that had her rolling her eyes yet again, "A dimple isn't manly"

This time, it was her turn to let loose a peal of tinkling laughter. Eyeing the sulking boy impishly, she leaned forward to flick the tip of his aquiline nose, darting back a step when he winced and scrunched it up. She wouldn't put it past him to come up with some hare-brained plot for revenge after a perceived slight against his manhood, that sneaky snake.

"Well, I like it" Hermione announced cheerily, hoping it would appease him. She didn't know it then but it did, though of course that didn't stop him from sending her his best sneer.

Knowing she liked his blasted dimple made him like it too, manliness be damned.

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

 _Meadowes Manor, October 1973_

Diligently, Hermione worked through the set of arithmancy problems, pausing periodically only to consult her worn copy of _Theory of Numerology._ Reaching the last of the questions her governess had given her, she sighed contentedly and glanced next to her where the woman had been sitting. When her eyes didn't meet with the coal black ones of her governess, she swivelled around, immediately finding the stately witch by the windows.

"Governess Eileen, I'm finished" she said, gathering her parchments into order.

The woman joined her at the table, long strides taking her there in seconds. Offering the assignment to her silently, Hermione watched as the governess palmed through it and started correcting her work, quill dancing across the parchments deftly. In the silence, the brunette witch observed the lines etched on the woman's forehead, how her thin lips were pressed in a firm line, the first few silver strands speckling through her crown despite multiple glamours cast. The elder woman was tense, she realized in concern, like a bow on the verge of snapping if the state of her appearance was anything to go by. And Hermione would wager it was about . . .

"How's Severus, Governess Eileen?" she asked.

At the name of her son, the woman's hand stilled momentarily before it resumed its dance, "As well as any Slytherin first year I presume" The smile she gave Hermione didn't reach her eyes and it was telling. Despite so, she let it slide, knowing her tip-lipped governess would share once she felt comfortable.

Sliding her favourite book from the shelves, Hermione flicked through the pages reverently until she found a dog-eared one indicating where she had last stopped. With a satisfied hum, she lost herself once again in _Hogwarts A History_ , eyes roving over the pages greedily. This is where Dorcas, James and Sirius were at now. Where she would be next year and oh, she simply couldn't wait!

Though everyone in the family had their galleons on Ravenclaw, Hermione was secretly hoping her bookishness would not automatically send her into the house of the eagles. All through summer, and then some, she had pored over the section of the book under houses and weighed the pros and cons of each house. Whilst all four had their own merits and drawbacks, the brunette had quietly set her heart on Gryffindor. So many usually focussed on her intelligence and desire to learn that they did not deign to investigate what _else_ lay beneath and she felt certain being sorted into Gryffindor would be the first step in correcting that.

"I'm worried about him" A hushed voice broke through her bubble.

She glanced up, taking notice of the fact that the guarded composure of her governess had been torn down amidst her reading. The older witch now looked weary, tired, as she clasped her bony hands together in her lap, almost as if to stop them from trembling.

"It is unfortunate he doesn't bear my maiden name" she continued to whisper, "His last name will be the undoing of him"

Ah. Without her governess saying more, Hermione understood. The curly-haired girl scooted over to wrap her in a warm hug, patting her back slowly to soothe her. It had been a month since the new batch of first years entered Hogwarts and went through the sorting.

In that time, Dorcas had written home every week, excitedly rambling about her housemates and lessons. Through their enchanted parchment, the two sisters had caught up extensively almost nightly. From what Governess Eileen had told her, Severus Snape had written once to inform his parents he had been sorted into Slytherin the way he wished and after that, the trickle of letters home had all but ceased.

 _Slytherin._

It still escaped her why the older boy would want to be sent to the snakes. Hermione had met her governess's son on a number of occasions and although he had been reserved, he still radiated a keen intelligence that endeared her to him. Over time, the persistent girl had managed to break down his walls and she was proud to call him a friend, much like James and Sirius.

And the snakes would eat her friend alive, she thought darkly. Naturally shy and on the thin side, his last name would no doubt condemn him to be an outcast in his house. Snape was so identifiable for a muggle last name that his prejudiced housemates would ostracize him on sight. The poor boy never stood a chance, Hermione sad eyes landed on the misty ones of her governess.

She knew Eileen Prince was blaming herself. For she could give everything to her son -

Except her pureblood last name.

:-***-:-***-:-***-:

 _Meadowes Manor, November 1973_

"I told you Regulus, I don't like flying!" Hermione said stubbornly, crossing her arms just to get the point across. The pair had been quibbling since the black-haired boy burst out from the fireplace, almost vibrating with excitement, new broom in hand.

When she had not reacted to his generous offer to take her up his broom the way he had expected, he started slouched around the manor after her morosely, a rather spectacular pout on his face. He kicked at a stray pebble, really, his little oiseau was being rather ridiculous, and he just _knew_ the Nimbus 1000 would change her mind about flying. "Don't like or can't?" he asked drily.

She shot him a dark look in return, "Both, I like my feet planted on the ground, thank you very much" she grouched out, taking him by the hand to lead the way to the field at the back of Meadowes Manor.

Regulus shrugged, straddling his broom carelessly "Last chance, it's your choice Mione" True to form, the brunette witch had brought a book out and was getting ready to dive in, he rolled his eyes in amusement.

Cocking her head slightly, she waved a hand to indicate she wouldn't be joining him. "'Mione?"

"Well I heard Dorcas calling you Herms and that sounds like a dude's name" he wrinkled his nose, ""Hence, Mione!" illustrating the grandiose effect of her new nickname with a dramatic sweep of his arms.

Hermione chuckled, tickled by the boy's theatrics. He grinned back at her, a crooked smile that displayed his dimple to its best effect. "Only you, only you Reggie"

"And I get to call you Reggie cos you called me Mione so it's only fair!" the teasing tone was accompanied by a shove towards the field.

So what if she wasn't going flying with him today? He was confident she would one day and that was all that mattered. Besides, Regulus wasn't that much of a brute he would force a lady up kicking and screaming. No, she would join him on his broom one day _because she wanted it,_ he smirked. With a mock bow, the raven-haired boy leapt up on the Nimbus and spiralled up into the sky calmly, exalting in the rush of air and feeling of weightlessness.

From the ground, Hermione's chocolate eyes tracked the small black dot hovering in the air in wonder, abandoning her chosen read in favour of observing the wizard. Regulus, much like other purebloods, possessed of a graceful elegant gait developed from etiquette lessons they were strong-armed into from childhood. Flying however, it became increasingly apparent, was very much a part of Regulus Black. The way he was one with the broom, streamlined and sleek, was a sight to behold. It was strangely reminiscent of . . . no, she had never seen a boy taking to flying the way –

 _But she did._

" _Potter went against your order Madam Hooch! He flew up after Longbottom's Remembrall!" A cocky sneer from a young blond._

 _A clear orb spinning in the air, its milky contents sloshing around haphazardly with the force of the hurl._

" _Harry Potter! Just what were you thinking?! You could have gotten hurt! Or lost us house points!"_

And that was . . .

 _Her voice._

Hermione gazed unseeingly into the field of green, a sliver of dread creeping up her spine.

Was she . . . was she a Seer?

What did all these mean?

That had to be Hogwarts she saw, everyone was clad in the uniform Hermione had seen Dorcas getting measured for. And, _Hogwarts A History_! Only first years had flying lessons, information flying through her mind at breakneck speed as she struggled to process, so that meant she was a first year in those visions. But. . .even that didn't make sense! Her future self had been calling out to _Harry Potter._ James didn't have a brother, she would know having spent entire summers traipsing around Potter Manor, and he had never mentioned any relation being close to their age anyway.

"Mione?"

Her head shot up, finally registering that Regulus had landed in front of her, cataloguing her form carefully as he waited for a reply. He tucked his broom away, catching her chin and tilting it up to look her in the eye, "What's wrong Mione?" The worry was plain in his voice as he silently urged her on.

"I saw something" she whispered, the words falling from her lips in a tumble, "I think it was a vision. But it was all wrong Reggie! Nothing made sense!"

She curled up into herself, only calming when he began stroking her hair tentatively. Reaching out and pulling her against his chest, he continued to murmur, "We'll figure it out together Mione"

"No matter what it is"

A/N:

Guest X: Hello there, thanks for leaving me the loveliest reviews, I do so enjoy them :) As for your questions, yes you'll see their relationship unfold in its entirety! The chapters will be written according to the outline of events I intend to insert and I note down the specific month to give a rough idea of the passage of time. Regarding their age, not sure if you missed it but in the Prologue, Amélie informs them that the Sirius and Regulus are of the same age as Dorcas and Hermione respectively so that means they'll be entering Hogwarts together :) Hope this helps!

Paulaa90: Hi! You've left me with some great questions in your reviews haha, I hope this reply doesn't come too late :) Regulus and Hermione are of the same age (11 years old as of 1973) so yes, they'll be in the same year. For now, their relationship is purely founded on mutual intrigue and on Regulus's part, there is the years of indoctrination by his parents to consider. He would, no doubt, have been educated on the importance of a respectable pureblood match, and this element is introduced in the previous chapter. About James, we shall see ;)

With that, I'll leave you with my best wishes for the holiday season! :)


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